Electric Kiss
by braille upon my skin
Summary: "He just wanted everyone to be the best they could be. That's why he brought Ryan on to help them out with nailing the "rockstar" image. He thought the blond boy's expertise in the area of performing would prove useful to them, and the way Ryan's face lit up at the notion that someone had finally realized his potential and saw what he had to offer… " T/R. Naturally.


**_Electric Kiss_**

When you're a captain, there are certain responsibilities and expectations that come with the title.

Being the leader of a band has a different set of duties than being the captain of the basketball team, but Troy Bolton did his best to rise to the occasion.

At first, entering East High's first ever Battle of the Bands sounded like fun. And, getting to claim victory over a self-righteous Sharpay Evans and her girl group- which her brother, Ryan, was curiously missing from- was an exciting prospect in and of itself.

It definitely served to motivate Chad, as the idea of being the undisputed champion always does. Zeke and Jason were simply swept up in the waves of motivation undulating from their comrades, and decided to join in.

That is, until Troy started to take the idea of being a musician a touch more seriously than his bandmates.

From his hiding place by the doors backstage, Troy overhears Chad talking about how he's being a hardass and a slave-driver, how none of them signed on to be bossed around, that this was supposed to be _fun_ , and his stomach twists, a lump rising in his throat. He just wanted everyone to be the best they could be. That's why he brought Ryan on to help them out with nailing the "rockstar" image. He thought the blond boy's expertise in the area of performing would prove useful to them, and the way Ryan's face lit up at the notion that someone had _finally_ realized his potential and saw what he had to offer…

Troy's heart has a strange, almost fluttering response when he recalls how Ryan's sky-colored eyes seemed to glow with this intense _hope_. He pushes the sensation, aside, however, as the complaints continue.

Zeke wants to drop out of the contest.

Jason agrees with him. After all, they're not really a band. They're just a bunch of "basketball dudes".

Troy had no idea that he was ruining this for everyone. He should… He owes all of them an apology. He makes a movement to step out of the shadows, preparing himself to find the right words to make amends, when Ryan suddenly pipes up, his light, lilting voice uncharacteristically hard, "You are _not_ quitting."

Heads whip around to stare at him, and Troy feels his eyes stretching wide with a sort of awe.

Ryan's body language is stiff, his eyes glinting as he goes on with increasing ferocity, " _No one_ is quitting. So, maybe Troy _is_ being a little too hard on you, expecting a bit too much." He begins to pace the floor, gesturing erratically, passionately . "So, what? That's what being a leader is about- knowing that victory requires hard work, dedication, commitment. You can't slack off and expect to get out on that stage in front of a crowd and pull a win out of thin air! My sister is well aware of this, and if you want to see 'slave-driving', you should stop in during one of her rehearsals."

Zeke and Jason exchange wide-eyed glances.

Chad has fallen silent.

That strange feeling from earlier returns with a vengeance, spreading its tingling, oddly not uncomfortable tendrils through Troy's abdomen. His pulse picks up speed. He's never had anyone stand up for him like this, before. Not Chad, certainly not Gabriella. And, he never would have expected this from _Ryan_. Ryan, the more reticent, subdued half of the Evans twins. Ryan, who was bullied on Troy's peripheral while Troy did nothing to put a stop to it until…

Troy manages to recover his his tongue, and, stomach twisting, opens his mouth to call out, "Ryan, wait."

Ryan halts. His eyes land on the brunette athlete and his posture relaxes, his fury dissipating.

"I _was_ being a jerk," Troy says.

Chad's eyebrows elevate curiously. His eyes, however, remain unreadable.

Troy traverses the floor, moving toward the group with tentative footsteps. Part of him fully expects to be rejected."I forgot that this was never supposed to be anything more than the four- no." He steps up to Ryan's side and lays a hand on the smaller boy's shoulder.

Ryan turns an intense stare on Troy, the corner of his mouth quirking.

Troy meets the stare and gives Ryan a small, reassuring smile. _"You're kind of, well… part of the team, now,"_ he recalls telling him in the hallway, last week. He wants, _needs_ Ryan to know that he meant it. "The _five_ of us getting together and having a good time."

Ryan returns Troy's smile, his muscles further slackening under the athlete's touch.

Jason's eyes fall to his feet.

Zeke shifts his weight, appearing suddenly uncomfortable.

"I let the competition get to my head. I'm sorry, guys," Troy finishes.

"But-" Ryan starts.

Troy's brows furrow. He's eager to hear the rest of whatever it was Ryan intended to say.

Ryan casts a look around him, however, and, after taking in the other boys' expressions, quickly clams up.

Troy doesn't have time to encourage him to go on, as Chad interjects, "I guess I can relate to getting kind of carried away when it comes to wanting to win."

"' _Kind of_ '?" Zeke gives the curly-haired boy a playful shove.

Chad swats Zeke away, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"So, are… are we okay, then?" Troy asks timidly.

Chad takes a second to mull it over, then, grinning, takes Troy by the hand and pulls him into his side, pulling him into a playful headlock. He ruffles Troy's hair.

Troy breaks into a grin, letting the rekindled enthusiasm of his teammates- bandmates- flood over him. He makes sure to direct the grin at Ryan, hoping to reassure and spread the excitement to him.

A smile tugs at Ryan's lips and his eyes glow softly.

As Chad relinquishes his grip on Troy, he, Jason and Zeke make their way out of the double doors at the back of the auditorium, hollering and cheering about grabbing drinks and burgers.

Troy and Ryan linger on the stage.

Troy rubs at the back of his neck, and Ryan meets his gaze almost shyly. "Thanks for having my back," Troy says.

Ryan shrugs. "Someone had to, right?"

Troy pauses, swallowing. _No_ , he thinks. _No one_ had _to, but…_ "It's… I've never had someone defend me so passionately before."

Ryan shuffles his feet. "We theater geeks tend to get really heated where performing is concerned. But… " He ducks his head. A soft smile plays on his lips as color floods his cheeks. "I guess you could say you bring out the passionate side of me."

"I do?" Troy is taken aback. He can feel his heart reacting to the words, sending a strange, effervescent feeling pooling throughout his entire body. It's sort of like how he felt after singing with Gabriella for the first time. Pumped. Exhilarated. Lightheaded with giddiness.

"Yeah, of-of course."

"You know, it's so weird. I don't know why," Troy says, taking a step closer to Ryan, "but I was sort of… hesitant about asking you for help with all this. Now, I…" He fixes his eyes on Ryan's, staring into them intently. "Know I made the right call." He smiles to cement the sentiment.

Ryan beams back. His eyes are shining, like they were that day Troy rushed to his aid when Ryan almost let slip that he had allied himself with Sharpay's competition. He looks cute. Kissable, even. "Your band is going to win this thing."

"Thanks," Troy says, and he means it. "Though… I kind of feel like winning's not that important to me, anymore."

"Really?" Ryan is surprised, as though the concept of not wanting to be "The Best" in any realm of performing is foreign to him. Considering who his twin sibling is, Troy finds that understandable.

"This is gonna sound corny, but I think I got something a lot better than some prize out of this competition." Troy shouldn't be even _thinking_ this, let alone saying it. He has a girlfriend. Gabriella. She informed him that she's entering the Battle of the Bands as a solo act. She'll be amazing, and rooting for her should take priority over fortifying whatever _this_ is with Ryan.

Troy felt compelled to grab Ryan's shoulder. To wink at him. And, now, he feels a similar tug, like the intense pull between two opposite poles of a pair of magnets, drawing him into Ryan's personal bubble.

"Maybe it is just a _little_ bit corny, but… " There's a name for the emotion fueling the soft glow to Ryan's eyes. Affection. Fondness. Warmth. Adoration. "Same, here."

The pull intensifies. Ryan is the northern magnetic pole, Troy, the southern. Troy wants his body pressed against Ryan's, their lips crushed together, arms wound around each other like they've finally clicked into place. His eyes fall to Ryan's mouth, taking in the enticing pink bow of his lips. He imagines how soft Ryan's creamy skin is, then…

Feels the insistent niggling of his internal clock reminding him that their allotted rehearsal time in the auditorium is almost up. "Come on." Instead of letting himself slip into Ryan's personal bubble, fall into place, he rests a hand on the small of Ryan's back, steering him toward their music equipment. "Let's get this stuff cleared out of here before-"

"-Sharpay suspects I've been here and goes apoplectic," Ryan finishes.

Troy lets a soft laugh escape him. "I was gonna say 'explodes', but yeah. 'Goes apoplectic' sums it up."

x-X

Rebound- that's the name of Troy, Chad, Zeke, Jason, _and_ _Ryan_ 's band. Ryan actually came up with the name while wracking his brain for basketball terminology. Troy supposes he helped… a teeny little bit, by supplying the name of the term Ryan was describing in his endearingly awkward way- does not win East High's Battle of the Bands.

Sharpay is, to the honest surprise of no one, the ultimate victor.

Chad insists that the judges felt sorry for her and handed her the win.

The night before the competition, Sharpay blew out her throat, screeching at Ryan for "betraying" her.

Ryan had been, as any rational person would, shell-shocked by his sister's wrath. Sharpay did, indeed, "go apoplectic", upon learning that Ryan had been not simply fraternizing with, but outright _aiding_ "the enemy".

However, even while at the mercy of his sister's infamously ear drum-shattering screams, Ryan remained stalwart and unapologetic.

And, Troy wanted to both make sure Ryan's nerves- and hearing- were still intact, and sweep him into a proud, overjoyed hug.

Win or lose, Troy resolved to treat Ryan to pizza., as a way of thanking him for all that he had done for Rebound- for _Troy_ \- and to congratulate him on _finally_ standing up to Sharpay.

He stands on the sidelines, watching on with a grin as Chad, Zeke, and Jason swarm Ryan and clap his back, jostle him, and attempt to fist-bump him in a celebratory manner. Chad even leads Ryan in one of his signature handshakes, which Ryan pulls off with an earnest smile.

Ryan looks happy, ecstatic that he finally has people aside from his sister to hang out with.

For the second time, Troy thinks that he gained something much better than any prize out of the contest.

As Chad, Jason, and Zeke make their way out of the auditorium, Zeke veers toward a still mute but beaming from ear to ear Sharpay. He offers her a bag full of cookies that he prepared himself.

She's taken aback, but not totally disgusted.

Chad wraps an arm around Taylor, one of the now _former_ members of Sharpay's girl group, and draws her into his side.

Troy figures that Gabriella is hanging somewhere nearby, waiting for him to tell her how well she did. How amazing she was, and how she was the winner in his heart, or something like that. Instead of seeking her out and wrapping her up in his arms for a congratulatory hug, his eyes linger on Ryan. On the way the blond boy's sky-colored eyes are still shining; with pride for bandmates, with exhilaration over how far they've come. He looks… _incredible_.

Breathing in, Troy slips his hands into his pants pockets and approaches Ryan. "We never could have pulled that off without you, you know," he says as he sidles up to the petite performer.

Ryan's gaze hones in on Troy, and the glow intensifies, illuminating his entire face. "Thank you for believing in me."

"It wasn't hard. You're incredible, Ryan."

"Really?"

Troy nudges him softly with his shoulder. " _Ye-es_ ," he assures him. "Completely."

Ryan ducks his head, trying in vain to bite back the grin that threatens to dominate his face. "Sharpay, uh," he says, swinging his arms, "consulted the family doctor. She should have her voice back in a few days."

Troy gives a sympathetic wince. "Sounds like a good time to invest in some earplugs."

Ryan lets out a light, musical laugh, and Troy can't help but join in. Once the laughter has died out, however, Ryan's expression becomes solemn, wistful, his brow-line creasing. "Now that all of this is over, I suppose things will go back to the way they were, before."

Troy, puzzled, and sure it's showing on his face, waits for Ryan to elaborate.

"Er, just- forget it. Dumb question." Shame flushes Ryan's cheeks a deep pink, and a storm brews behind his eyes, darkening their soft, lively blue to a thundery gray.

Fearing that Ryan is about to take off, Troy grabs hold of his hand. "Ryan!"

Ryan is stiff, his jaw tense, as if trying to muster every ounce of strength his body houses to push back a rush of sadness that threatens to sweep him away.

Troy will do anything he can to keep the petite boy anchored in place. "I can't speak for Chad, Zeke, or Jason. But, you and me? Our relationship? Is not conditional."

Slowly, Ryan lifts his head and turns to look at Troy. His eyes, wide, shine with yet to be shed tears, and something else.

Troy steps in, reducing the distance between himself and Ryan. "I'm not going to stop wanting to be around you, just because the contest is over," he says, his voice low and teeming with all of the feelings that have been assailing his body every time he so much as glances at Ryan. He squeezes Ryan's hand, fingers threading between Ryan's pale ones. He tells himself that he means to kiss Ryan on the cheek, or the corner of his mouth, but, like a magnet meeting its opposite pole, he clicks into place.

Ryan jolts with surprise, an electrical pulse that surges out of his mouth and into Troy's. Then, his muscles relax, and he wraps one arm around Troy's backside, pulling him closer, and holds tightly onto Troy's hand with the other. When they break off, it's simultaneous.

Troy touches his nose to Ryan's, and elation floods him when he sees that the storm has cleared. "A few of us were going to get pizza to celebrate Rebound's success. Would you-?"

"I'd _love_ to." Ryan beams, and Troy feels lighter than he has in weeks. Hand still intertwined with Ryan's, he grabs his guitar and they make their way out of the auditorium at an easy, languid pace, no longer having to dread facing Sharpay's wrath, or a looming deadline. Troy's arm swings as he walks with Ryan, laughs at Ryan's jokes, and every step sheds the weight of one more burden and responsibility off of his shoulders.

* * *

A/N: This story was inspired by the first book in the _Stories From East High_ novel series; _Battle Of The Bands_. It's filled with Tryan-y wonderfulness, and I highly recommend giving it a read. Any plot points from the book are the creative property of author N.B. Grace and Disney. I just utilized them for the sake of this work.

The title was taken from the Stefani Germanotta song of the same name.


End file.
